A Different Kind of Forever
by SicariusAquila
Summary: How much can one change? After all Altair and Malik have been though, are they still the same? From children to adults, they've been nothing but friends, and every year they grow, they drift apart. Friendships come and go, but some you just have to fight for. Or maybe, was it meant to be something more?
1. Chess

"You cheated!" Altair yelled, staring at the chess board furiously.

"And just how did I?" Malik replied smugly, leaning back into his chair.

"There is NO WAY you could have won ten times in a row!" Altair cried desperately.

"Well, I must admit, it takes an amount of skill to_ lose_ ten times in a row." Malik said cooly.

"I didn't lose, you cheated!" Blubbered Altair, frantically flailing his arms.

Malik sighed, fiddling with the white bishop in his hand. There was no reasoning with Altair, especially in a state like this.

"Fine, we'll play one more game so you may redeem yourself-if you can." Malik said, setting up the chess pieces.

"No, I wanna play checkers instead!" Altair said, still making wild hand guestures.

Malik groaned. Checkers was the only game Altair had EVER won against Malik by sheer luck, and since that day, he took the time to flaunt his so-called skills ever chance he gets.

"...No"

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pleeeease?"

"NO."

"PLEASE?"

"NO!"

Altair huffed. "You re just afraid you re going to lose again." Altair said aroggantly.

"I lost once. Out of ALL the times we've played. It is nothing to be ashamed of." Malik replied, crossing his arms.

"Oh? But what would all the other novices think if the great and mightly Malik lost in a game of checkers?" Altair mocked.

Malik glared daggers across the chess table. There was no shame in losing in a game of chess, but there was however shame in losing ot the fool across the table.

"Altair, if you played more chess, maybe you would stand a chance against me." Malik told Altair.

"But I like Checkers better." Altair chimed stubbornly.

"Altair, checkers is for barbarians. It take little skill as you are simply dispatching every other piece on the board. Where as in chess, You must keep the piece with most importance on the board and trap it. Being exceptional at chess will make you a better assassin." Malik lectured Altair.

Altair sat there gazing blankly at Malik. Malik was surprised and relived he finally managed to quiet the hyper-active novice.

Altair finally spoke:"...When did you become an old man?"

Malik made one last menacing look at Altair and held out some chess pieces.

"So what will it be La-Ahad? Chess or checkers?"

"Checkers." He said, staring innocently at Malik.

"You just wasted ten minutes of my life." Malik sighed, but set up the board anyways.

-Five minutes later-

"YOU CHEATED!" Screamed Altair.

_Here we go again..._ Malik thought.


	2. Midnight Adventures

The eagle cried high above the Masyaf walls, its screech echoing of the snow-covered fortress. It was mid-December, and the signs of a snowstorm were beginning to appear. Deep within the castle, quiet whispers were exchanged in a certain novices chamber.

Altair listened for the sound of the guards receding footsteps, before slowly opening one bleary eye.

"Ready?"  
>"Always."<p>

Altair slowly rose, careful not to make any noise. Malik watched before doing the same. Altair cautiously approached the window, pushing curtains aside before exposing both him and Malik to the cold night air. Taking a shaky breath, he climbed out of the window and made his way down the castle walls with Malik following close behind. He landed with a "thud", carefully sneaking behind any patrolling assassins before dashing out into the midst of the night.

Breathing heavily, he ran though the village, running past long closed shops and stables, feet pounding on the ground. Hearing an amused chuckle, he spun around to face Malik. When he realized-

He wasn't wearing any boots.

Altair scowled, before pouting. While Maliks chuckling had turned into full on heaves of laughter. It couldn't be that entertaining, he thought. He sighed, wiggling his toes, which were now starting to turn into all different shades of blue and purple. Malik followed his gaze, his amused expession now turning into one of genuiene concern.

"Here." Malik said simply, throwing one of his own boots at Altair.

Altair stared dejectedly at the boot, not moving an inch.

"Well don't just stare at it! I shall not be responsible for the loss of your toes."

Altair snorted, but reluctantly put on the boot, which was several sizes too large for him.

Malik sighed. "Well, now what?"

"I..don't know." Altair admitted sheepishly.

Malik rolled his eyes. Leave it to Altair to have absolutely no plan after sneaking out of Masyaf in the dead of night to have some "fun". Malik felt like bashing his head(or preferably Altair's)against a wall.

"Well then lets go back, and pretend you never had this ridiculous idea in the first place." Malik said, turning around.

"No way!" I didn't come all the way out here to go back now!" Altair whined.

Malik kneaded the sides of his head, feeling the oncoming headache.

"And I must be the only one who wishes, NOT to be caught outside of the fortress by guards." Malik replied, glaring.

"And I must be the only one who knows how to have fun!" Altair countered.

"And this is your idea of "fun"?" Malik mocked, guesturing to the barren road to kingdom.

"Fine, if this is so boring, follow me." Altair said, running off.

"Hey-wait, no!" Malik yelled helplessly after Altair.

But Altair was already descending into the darkness of the night, and Malik had no choice but to follow him.

"I swear, one day..." Malik muttered under his breath.


	3. First mission

"MALIK!" Altair screeched, running up the fortress stairs.

Malik groaned, attempting to hide his face from the over active 12 year old Altair. The novice was attracting an immense amount of attention, something Malik loathed.

"Malmalllllll..." Altair called, using Malik's nickname, dragging out the l.

Finally, Malik had enough.

"What is it that you want?" Malik yelled in exasperation.

"I'm going on my first mission!" Altair chirped excitedly.

Malik frowned. Altair was but twelve, and still in training. Malik, whom was two years his senior, had never even been assigned to a novice mission, let alone a high risk mission that Altair was describing.

"What? If you keep frowning your face will stay like that~" Altair chimed, causing a few of the other nearby assassins to chuckle, and making Malik's face turn completely beet red.

Malik gaped, his face burning, trying to think of a legitimate response. "Well when-

"Anyways, it's a group mission! I'm going with Qasim and Nimr." Altair said, cutting Malik off.

Malik breathed a sigh of relief. Altair will probably just be observing how to accomplish a proper mission, as both Qasin and Nimr were both 7th rank assassins, he reassured himself.

"Well, I'm off! Don't worry, I promise to tell you everything about the mission when I get back!" Altair cheerfully said, before dashing off.

_That was the last time,_ Malik thought, _that Altair smiles seemed genuine._

That was also the first night Altair and Malik had ever spent away from each other, and Malik could not help but worry about him, before falling into a troubled slumber.

The following day, Malik anxiously awaited Altair's return. He found himself glancing at the city gates more often than not, wondering where that _novice_ was. _What is something went wrong? What if... the conversation we had yesterday was our last? _Now Malik was more worried than ever.

It wasn't until dusk that Altair returned, sleeves covered in blood.

"Altair, Altair! Where have you been? What-

Malik's eyes widened in shock when he saw Altair's sleeves.

"Are you hurt? Answer me!" Malik screeched, shaking Altair.

Altair only stared back with souless eyes, silently. Malik searched desperately in Altair's once gleaming gold eyes, only finding-

Nothing.

Every bit of boyish silliness, every bit of laughter, every bit of _life _was simply gone

Shoving that thought aside, Malik continued to yell.

"And what of Qasim, and Nimr? Where are they?" Malik demanded.

Finally Altair spoke. "Dead." Was all he said.

"What, how?-

But Altair only looked up at Malik with those _eyes. _

_"Altair, Altair..." _Malik finally allowed himself to cry that day.


	4. All These Years

Malik only sighed as he watched Altair brag to the other novices about his latest exploit. Altair was now thirteen, but was raised to the rank that Malik was, at fifteen. Such things were rarely heard of, so now-

Malik gripped his quill harder as the novices laughed.

There were novices literally _flocking _to their shared quarters to see the "great Altair", which was doing nothing to improve Malik's already sour mood. Altair however, seemed to be relishing all the attention, but Malik was being pushed to the point because these godforsaken novices were disrupting his studies, in the most irritating way possible. And no, he was not jealous, most definitely not-

Malik's grip snapped the feather quill in his hand, causing the ink to spill everywhere. He cursed, and quickly tried to hide the mess of ink as the novices giggled. Malik threw a hard glare in their direction, and they promptly quieted, as Malik's temper was well known throughout the order. Slightly satisfied, he turned back toward his books, desperately trying to get _something_ done with these giggling imbeciles in his room. The other novices exchanged a few hushed whispers before sheepishly shuffling out of the room.

Malik sighed for the umpteenth time, thinking that he could finally get some work done. But he couldn't, not because of the other novices this time but, something else was troubling him-

He only wished he knew what it was.

Altair. Of course, everything seemed to lead back to Altair. But this time it was different. It wasn't anger it was...regret.

When did Altair become like this? What if-

What if Malik had said something, would things be different?

Malik could only lament the passing of all those years, all those-

Malik smiled. All those times they we're caught causing trouble in and around Masyaf, even the time Malik had forced Altair to take a bath. He had chased a _naked _Altair all around the fortress that day. Not to mention the silly pet names they had made for each other, Alty and MalMal. It was hard not to smile back at all these fond memories they shared.

He only wished there could be more.

"_What happened Altair, What happened?"_ Malik murmured to himself.


	5. Fire in your eyes

Today was Malik's 16th birthday. It had been a hard day of training, and after everything, there was no birthday wishes, no presents or any special knew this was how it should be in the order, but Malik couldn't help but wish for something more on his special day..

Flopping down on his bed, he felt something hard poke at his shoulder. Groaning, he rolled over and picked up the offending object to find it.. _Wrapped_? It was against the rules to bring anything in from the outside into the fortress, that wasn't directly related to the order. Whoever left this here was taking a very big risk, and clearly didn't care, considering they left it out in the open. About to throw it away, he spied something written on the corner of the wrapping.

_To Malik_

Malik furrowed his brow, wondering why the script was nearly illegible. All assassins were well educated, and their writing would sure be better than- Oh. Good god._ Altaïr_. Only he has such terrible penmanship, and only Malik could decode it. Unwrapping the parcel, he found...

A book?

No, not just any book, Malik had seen this book before...

_**9 years ago...**_

Altair had always hated reading, and anything similar to the tedious torture. It had never interested him, and he couldn't figure out how Malik could sit still for hours and just read. Why waste time reading when you could spend time running wild outside? That's why he was always pestering Malik to come out and play with him, because there really was nobody else. Altair's father was forever out on some mission, leaving the five year old Altair alone. So, like any other day, Altair was at Malik's house, trying to convince him to play, and stop being so damned boring.

"For the last time Altair, I want to finish my book today! Go to the fields on your own."

"But it's no fun on your own! Put the damned book down and come!" Altair whined.

"I, for one, am actually getting some knowledge out of reading, while you, are simply fooling around outside, which has no educational value." Malik pointed out.

"Who cares? At least what I'm doing is fun. Your book is probably about 'how to be boring', for all I know." Altair mocked.

"I'll have you know, it's a guide to bugs. Clearly something YOU can't even comprehend." Malik said, glaring.

"What!? Exclaimed Altair, getting defensive. Let me see that." He said, grabbing for the book. Malik sighed, knowing there was no stopping Altair. He handed over the book, and waited for the oh-so-famous dumbfounded expression that would soon appear on Altair's face.

"What?"

_One..._

"The?"

_Two..._

"HELL?"

_Three._

"You should have listened, child." Malik said, victorious.

Altaïr grunted, a sound of defeat. Now, let me be with my..

"NOPE!" Altair squealed gleefully, dashing out the door with Malik's book.

Malik, at a loss, stated blankly after Altaïr for a second, before following suit.

"ALTAIR! YOU NOVICE! GET BACK HERE WITH MY BOOKKKKK!" Malik screamed at the top of his tiny lungs.

"Well come get it, Mr. Knowledgeable!"Altair yelled back.

Malik huffed in anger, and continued the chase. Soon, it got dark, and unbeknownst to Malik, Altair had led him right to the park he was trying to drag Malik to earlier. Malik, still blinded with fury, was ready to snap Altair's neck.

"ALTAIR! COME OUT WHERE I CAN SEE YOU!" Malik yelled, desperately hoping his book wasn't damaged.

"What's the fun in that?" Altair taunted, giggling from his hiding place.

"Altair, you-" Malik's chin dropped. From the corner of his eye, something caught his eye.

With a low humming noise, tiny little sparks seemed to appear from nowhere, dotting the night air around him, gleaming before his wide eyes.

Before him, stood no-_ flew_ the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Altair, curiously creeper out of his hiding place, and stared in awe, just as Malik was.

"What is it?" Altair asked with shimmering eyes.

"Fireflies.."Malik breathed.

Malik had read about them in dozens of scrolls, but he had never seen them with his own eyes. It was a truly magnificent sight, as the fireflies danced across the night sky, creating streaks of light in the boys vision as they flew. As Malik held out his chubby little hand, one landed on his fingertip. "Fireflies... "Malik repeated, gazing at the little creature on his hand.

"I love fireflies..."

"You love me too, right Malik?" Altair asked innocently. Malik looked at Altair in astonishment, before smiling.

"Yes Altair, I love you too."

* * *

><p><em>"The book of bugs"<em> Malik shook his head in disbelief, lifting the present out of its wrapping.

"So, that's where it went. 9 years, _9 years_ you novice. You kept it all this time." Despite it all, Malik found himself with a smile. But not just any smile, the same one he had all those years ago.


	6. Seventeen And Not Too Crazy

_Stupid girl and her stupid laugh and her-_

"Malik!"

"Kadar?"

"What are you doing? You're just standing here, staring- OH."

"What?"

"Looking at Altair and Aden now, are you?" Kadar said, raising his eyebrow.

"No! I'm..thinking."

"About Altair?" Kadar said, rolling his eyes.

With lack of better response, Malik just glared.

"Brother, be rational. He's fifteen, I think things like this are normal." Kadar said, crossing his arms.

"Love is a weakness. Love is forbidden." Malik growled.

"And? Many of us are sons of assassins Malik, including Altair. Clearly not everyone follows that rule."

"It doesn't necessarily have to do with love."

Seeing there was no reasoning with his brooding bother, Kadar stalked off, leaving Malik to himself.

Malik was just as annoyed. At himself. Why did he care? It's Altair's life, his choices have no affect on Malik. None at all. He didn't want to care. Not one bit. But he did, he did with a burning rage. Why did this girl, who was probably destined to work in the gardens as a whore, matter so much to Altair? She wasn't anything spectacular to look at, and was dumber than boots. It just didn't make sense, there was no logic to why Altair was suddenly so smitten with Aden.

Trying to piece things together was making Malik more irritable by the minute. It couldn't be love, Altair was _fifteen. _Besides, Malik just always knew, deep down, that love was a fairytale. He had read about it in books, how _love_ could make an empire fall, or destroy peoples lives, and clearly never lasted. So even if it _did_ exist, Malik didn't see why anyone would want to be anywhere near it. He loved his brother, but that was a different kind of love, one that only exists between blood, and as far as Malik was concerned, Altair did not have siblings of any sort.

So what _witchcraft _did Aden use on Altair?

No longer having an appetite, Malik sighed in frustration and trudged out of the dining hall.

* * *

><p>For the next few days, he immersed himself in training, books and writing. A world that made sense to him, hardly ever talking to anyone. In the instances that he did talk, they were always curt one word answers, even to Kadar. Most had learned to stay away from Malik when he was in such a state.<p>

Most.

"Malik."

No reply.

"Would you at least tell me what is wrong?"

"Nothing."

"You are a better liar than that, Malik. _What. Is. Wrong?_"

"Nothing."

Exasperated, Altair threw his hands in the air. Malik just ignored him, never looking up from his book.

"Malik, you're going to tell me." Altair warned.

Malik finally snapped.

"And just who are you to be telling me what _I _will or will not do?! You-"

Altair jumped and tackled Malik off his chair, catching him off guard. Sitting himself firmly on Malik's hips, one leg on each side, Altair leaned close to Malik's face.

"You will tell me."

"Get off."

"Tell me."

"Don't you have better things to do? Because I do, _oh great son of none." _

"If you're going to be like that, fine."

Altair cracked his knuckles, and started tickling Malik's sides. He knew about the latter ones weakness, and before you knew it, Malik was giggling, then howling with laughter.

"St-Stop it!" Malik gasped between badly suppressed giggles.

"Not until you tell me." Altair said, smirking proudly.

"That s-stupid girl!"

Taken aback, Altair paused.

"Girl?"

"Aden!"

"What about her?"

"..."

"Malik, I won't hesitate to start tickling you again."

"Fine! You're just..Always around her, laughing, teasing.." Malik stopped, blushing, seeing how ridiculous he must sound.

Altair's shock had turned into laughter, making Malik's face somewhat resemble a beet.

"_That's _why you're like this? Allah, I thought it had been serious." Altair wheezed between laughter.

Malik scowled, thoroughly embarrassed. Although he didn't want to admit it, he was still confused.

"So you don't?.."

"Malik, I didn't know you could be so jealous."

"I. Am. Not."

"Uh huh."

"Just answer the damn question!"

"I talked to her _once_."

"And?!"

"And what? She's incredibly incompetent? She has a big mouth? You should've come and saved me from the terrible conversation?"

Malik smacked himself on the forehead at his own silly assumptions.

"This never happened, by the way." Malik warned.

"Of course, what would happen to the King Of Swords reputation, if everyone knew he would crack when being tick-"

Altair was promptly shut up by a book hitting his head.


	7. Faults in Us Both

I'm just. I'M SO SORRY ;_; I've just been super busy with life, and I've had this chapter kinda half finished and stored away(just like all of them D:) And just forced myself to sit down and finish it today. I can't honestly say when the next one is coming out, but I have remembered my whole idea for this story, and if I can pull it off/finish it, I still think it'll be great. Enjoy!

* * *

><p>Malik woke to the cheering of mentors and novices alike, a fitting start to his terrible morning. Malik groaned, the sunlight streaming through his window stinging his eyes.<p>

"What time is it?...Altair?" Malik moaned groggily.

Malik looked to the side, only to find Altair's bed empty. Utterly confused, Malik rolled out of bed. It was odd to say the least, because most days, Allah himself could not get Altair up before Malik.

Then, it finally clicked.

Today was the skills testing, and Malik was late. _Horrifically_ late. He mentally cursed Altair for not waking him up, and scrambled to get his uniform on before dashing out towards the training grounds.

Pushing his way though the cheering crowd, Malik struggled to take his place among the participants. Still somewhat disorientated, he searched the crowd of faces for Altair. No luck. Malik fought to even stay upright in the jostling crowd, and stood on his toes to get a better view of the training course. He cursed his height, being slightly below average, with little to no hope of improving, now being at the age of eighteen. A horn sounded, and the crowd cheered with added vigor. Malik, having quite enough, pushed with annoyance through the people jeering and shouting. Some gave him dirty looks, others elbowed back. Nonetheless, he eventually made it to the front just as the current course run was ending. To his astonishment, the Grand Master himself was standing on a slightly elevated platform, carefully observing each participant. Malik's breath hitched in his throat. The pressure was on.

Before he knew it, it was his turn. He was shoved toward the start by the crowd, before meeting his competitor.

Altair.

Malik inwardly groaned. Of course. Of course it had to be his best friend. How the hell did Altair always before the source of his misfortune?

The roars of the crowd grew, and Malik struggled to keep his composure. Finally, the horn sounded, and they were off.

The course featured a jumble of planks and beams, both of which looked impossibly thin. Leaping and running, Malik put his mind over matter, and performed what he had been trained to do since birth. Landing his precision jumps perfectly, he dove through the strategically placed window. Pleased with himself, his happiness vanished when he realized Altair was ahead of him. He grit his teeth and pushed on, and they both made it to the tightrope simultaneously. Malik barely managed to step on first, and was relieved to see the finish line in reach when-

He tripped.

No, Malik didn't trip, Altair _tripped_ him.

'_But why?_' Malik thought, plummeting to the ground.

Flashing in and out of consciousness, Malik watched as Altair hesitated, peering over the edge at Malik. The yelling around him increased, telling him to go, and leave Malik.

So he did.

Malik had barely registered what had happened, before finally fading into unconsciousness.

When Malik woke, all he could feel was hate, betrayal, and pain. So much pain. Someone had brought him to the physician, which was another blow to his ego. The medic walked in, holding a flask, and running behind him, came Kadar.

"MALIK! You're awake! Are you okay? How do you feel? Will you be alright? Will he be alright?" He said, turning to the medic.

"You're giving me a worse headache than I already had. Of course I'll be fine." Malik grumbled, sitting up.

"Oh...Sorry." Kadar said sheepishly.

"A few bruised bones, you may return to your quarters tonight if you wish. Here's something to ease the pain." The medic said, handing Malik the flask.

"Many thanks." Malik sniffed the foul smelling liquid, wrinkling his nose. He handed it to Kadar, and began to pack up his things. He would return to his room tonight, and put Altair into his place once and for all.

He took the flask back from Kadar as they walked down the halls, dumping the contents into the gardens below. Kadar opened his mouth to protest, but Malik shot him a withering look, to which he clamped his mouth shut. They stopped outside of Malik and Altair's shared room, and Kadar, still bubbly as ever, spoke up.

"Come to my room if you need anything, okay? That was a really bad fall, and I don't-" He started.

"Yes, yes, I know. Please do not remind me." Malik replied, exhausted. "You can go back now, I'll be fine."

"Okay. But remember brother, you're never too tough to need help!" He chirped, leaving before Malik could disapprove.

Malik sighed, pushing open the door and walking into the room. He was relieved to not find Altair there, boasting about his victory. Malik placed his things down, and collapsed onto his bed. Bad idea. Pain shot through his spine, and he moaned in agony.

Malik was surprised by a muffled yelp that came from the corner of the room. He rolled over, scanning the area. His eyes widened at the sight before him.

Altair sat there, curled up in a fetal position, robes bloodied and his eye black. Malik could see that he had been crying, and probably hadn't moved from there since. Malik hesitated. He had walked in fully intent of giving Altair a piece of his mind, but...seeing him like that, he couldn't. He coldly rolled back over. It didn't excuse him of his actions.

'Serves him right, after all he's done.' Malik thought darkly.

He wouldn't realize until years later that he hadn't even cared enough to ask what happened.


	8. Runaway Love

WOAH WOAH WOAH 2 chapters in two days? Two actually decently lengthed chapters? Badass up here! Just kidding, but stuff gets real here, and I've got another chapter lined up after (I'll regret saying that, it'll probably be finished NEVER) But enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Malik?"<p>

"Hmm?"

"I'm sorry."

Malik looked over at Altair in disbelief. "For what?"

"I'm leaving."

Malik, even more confused, placed his hand on his friend's shoulder.

"What do you mean you're leaving?"

Altair looked down in shame, liquid gold eyes darkening. "I'm leaving Masyaf. Leaving the order. I'm sorry for being selfish, I just cannot take it any longer. I...I wanted someone to know. I wanted _you _to know."

Malik couldn't believe his ears. "Why Altair? You're the top of our class! You have _everything_ every assassin wants! You cannot just run away from all that's been handed to you."

"Do you really believe that?" Altair murmured, looking away. "That I have everything so wonderful?"

"Yes! You are the disciple of the Grand Master! The _only _disciple of the Grand Master! It is the most coveted position a novice could have!" Malik persisted, raising his voice.

"...I'm sorry to have troubled you." Altair said, walking away.

Malik furrowed his brow. "Altair, wait."

Altair ignored him, instead quickening his pace.

"Altair! Don't be a child!" Malik called, chasing after him. Malik grabbed Altair's hand, but Altair pulled away, eyes turning cold.

"Just let me be, Al-Sayf." Altair said.

Malik froze at the sound of his last name. Him and Altair had been drifting, but were they such strangers now that such formalities would be the norm?

He shook the feeling off, charging after Altair. He swung his arms out, attempting to catch Altair.

Too slow.

Altair, senses keen as ever, quickly side stepped, sending Malik straight into pavement. Malik landed with a grunt, and Altair looked on with an unreadable expression. Not willing to give up that easily, Malik stood up, wiping his mouth, and moving into a fighting stance. Altair followed suit, and the two circled each other for a moment, before Malik lunged forward. Altair again sidestepped, but Malik was prepared, and did a quick roll, sweeping his leg out to catch Altair's, which sent him sprawling. However, he caught himself quickly, and without pause, gave a quick uppercut to Malik's chin. Malik doubled over, spitting out a bloody tooth. His jaw hurt, but his pride was terribly wounded. Guilt flashed through Altair's eyes, but Malik persisted, finally pinning Altair to the wall.

"The, _huff, _hell_, huff, _is wrong Altair!?" Malik demanded, breathing hard.

Altair struggled to get out of his grip, but upon looking into Malik's gaze, gave up. He let his body go limp, and slid down the wall to a sitting position on the ground.

"I can't do it." Altair said, choking. "I swear I'm going mad, Malik."

"Shh, you don't have to." Malik said, not asking for specifics.

"I do. I'm meant to be the saviour of Masyaf, am I not? Son of none, the perfect assassin..." Altair muttered, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Even so, you cannot run from your problems, brother. It will do you more harm than good, you know that. With what you know, the assassin's will hunt you down to their very last man." Malik reasoned. "You are seventeen, Altair. You would never survive out there on your own."

"Age is not a problem, as long as I am careful with my tongue. I could take a ship, and leave these lands." Altair said.

"And where would you go? How would you get the money to travel?" Malik said.

"Pickpocketing. I would go anywhere, as long as it was away." Altair sighed.

Malik paused. "You had this all planned out?"

"For many years." Altair breathed, putting his head in his hands.

Malik studied Altair's face, suddenly noticing the extra scars he now had, and an especially fresh one on his lip. Altair's eyes were red and watery, threatening to spill over at any moment.

"Altair." Malik said softly, crouching down to his level. "You can always talk to me. And you can cry if you have to. Feel no shame in my presence."

Altair looked back at Malik, who finally saw the desperation that had been hidden away in Altair's soul for so long, and just how broken his friend had become. And how he had not been there for him.

Altair started to quietly sob, before breaking down into muffled heaves. Malik stayed silent, holding Altair in his arms and rocking him back and forth, Altair's sobs grew louder, pouring out all the suppressed pain hidden below his cocky exterior. When he finally ran out of tears, Malik pulled back, cupping Altair's chin.

"If you insist on leaving. I _will_ help you."

Altair wiped the moisture off his cheeks, and without another thought, brought his lips to Malik's. And, to his own surprise, Malik kissed back.

It was the most awkward moment of their lives up to that point to say the least, hardly the breathtaking experience that Malik had read about in so many books. But life-changing, it definitely was.

They both pulled back at the same time, it great shock. Before any words could be exchanged, the bell rung, signalling that it was time to retire.

The grabbed each others hands and ran towards their quarters, fuelled by adrenaline, like children waiting to be caught. They made it back unseen, the silence now replaced by their laughter, and as soon as their door was closed, Altair pushed Malik up against the wall.

"I want you to come with me." He said huskily.

Malik hesitated. "I want to...but Kadar...My whole life is here, brother."

"We could bring him! The three of us, together." Altair exclaimed.

"Wait a moment, my brother is NOT going to be between us." Malik said, smirking.

Altair laughed, a sound that Malik had missed so much. "Of course not. You're all mine." Altair whispered, sending chills down Malik's back.

"Tonight then. We leave tonight." Malik said, bringing their foreheads together.

"I'll take that as a 'Yes' then?" Altair said, grinning.

"Shut up and pack, novice." Malik said, giving his friend a light smack over the head.

Once they had gathered all their things, it was the middle of the night, they positioned themselves in front of their window, ready to take the leap. Just as Altair was about to step onto the windowsill, Malik broke into laughter.

"What? Are you alright in the head?" Altair asked, confused.

"Of course I am, you fool. Remember the last time you convinced me to sneak out with you in the middle of the night?" Malik said, chuckling.

Altair laughed as well, recalling that night. "I was eleven years old, and you were thirteen. I ran out into the night, forgetting to put my boots on."

"You were a real piece of work, Ibn La-Ahad. Let's hope you stay fully clothed this time, yes?" Malik said, prodding Altair.

"I'm not promising anything." Altair said, sticking his tongue out. And with a great leap, he was in the haystack below.

"That's the Altair I know." Malik breathed, and took the plunge himself.

Their first goal was to reach Kadar, and hopefully convince him to come with them. Problem was, Kadar was housed within the city, and sneaking around Masyaf at night was a difficult task, with the assassin's patrolling every inch of the village. Nonetheless, the young and restless men took off towards the buildings, fuelled by adrenaline and new found love. They climbed ladders, leaped over buildings, and quietly dropped down to ground level. Malik motioned for Altair to hide and wait, while Malik went into the house to find Kadar. Malik turned the corner, dashing toward the door, when he crashed into a hard surface.

Malik grunted, landing on his back. He sat up, peering into the darkness, before looking up into the angry eyes of a guard.

Malik cursed, and tried to scramble away, but was roughly dragged up by his hood.

"You're not supposed to be here." The guard said gruffly. "Let's see what the Master will think of an assassin snooping around in the village at night!"

Malik fought back, but was given a hard kick to the stomach for his effort. This was not going to plan. Out in the distance, he spotted Altair, who looked back at him with wide eyes.

'Go.' Malik mouthed desperately.

Altair hesitated. He had left Malik behind before.

Never again.

Altair took off in a sprint towards the guard, tackling him and forcing him to release his grip on Malik.

"Run!" Altair yelled, trying in vain to hold down the much larger guard.

"No! Together or not at all!" Malik yelled back, trying to drag Altair with him.

Altair resisted, instead pushing Malik with as much force as he could muster onto a lift, and with a quick slash, he cut the rope, sending Malik sprawling onto the roof above. Malik could only watch as the guard got the better of Altair, who was dragged away.

Malik ran as fast as he could back to the fortress, as the plan had ended in disaster. He would not let Altair shoulder the blame.

Dawn was approaching, and Malik slipped in through the window he and Altair had left out of. Malik ran through the halls, making his way to the jail cells. Surely this would be where they would take Altair? He frantically searched the cells, looking for anyone who scarcely resembled his friend. No luck. Perhaps they were still bringing him to the Grand Master? Malik ran back to the front hall, and sure enough, he saw Altair being brought into the Grand Master's office. Malik sprinted up the stairs, catching Altair's gaze.

"Don't." Altair pleaded, shaking his head.

Malik froze. He took in a sharp breathe, and squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn't let him take all the blame. But the force in Altair's eyes shook Malik to the core. So Malik just stood there helplessly, as the Grand Master's door shut in front of him.

Malik spent the day switching between yelling in frustration and sobbing in anguish, and soon enough, the guard showed up at his room.

"Al-Sayf. We know the story. How Ibn La-Ahad had run off, and how you had tried to stop him. You will receive no punishment." The guard said, clearly displeased. He began gathering Altair's things.

"Wait! Stop! Those are Altair's things!" Malik cried, stepping in between the guard and Altair's bed.

"Move, boy. He will no longer be needing them here." The guard said, shoving Malik aside.

"What do you mean?! Where is he? Where is Altair?!" Malik yelled.

"No longer a concern to you. He will be living directly under the Grand Master now." The guard said, walking out.

"You will not see him again." The guard growled, slamming the door behind him.

Malik cried himself to sleep that night.


End file.
